Silver Flames
by thefandomunicorn
Summary: With a sour ex-boyfriend, heckling parents, and the threat of Dark Magic to top things off, Hermione Granger finds herself teaming up with an unlikely ally to put things right again. Together they find themselves back in Hogwarts, rewriting their once volatile relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**Silver Flames**

******With a sour ex-boyfriend, heckling parents, and the threat of Dark Magic to top things off, Hermione Granger finds herself teaming up with an unlikely ally to put things right again. Together they find themselves back in Hogwarts, and rewrite their once volatile relationship. **

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, of course.**

**Enjoy!**

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Hermione Granger landed on the front steps of the Burrow, twisting out the familiar crick in her neck Apparating gave her. She was still dressed in her emerald green work robes, emblazoned with symbol of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She smoothed her clothes, letting her tight bun down into relaxed auburn curls. As she raised her hand to knock on the door, it opened, and a distracted Ron came barging straight into her.

"Ouch, watch where you're going, you—Oh, erm, Hermione, hi, um, everyone's inside, I'm just going out for some air, yeah?" He stuttered sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Thanks Ron, is Harry inside?" she asked casually. Ron nodded and pushed passed her, shoving his hands into his pockets. Hermione sighed. At least he was talking to her. A few years ago, she'd called their relationship off. What had sparked at Hogwarts was nothing more than teenage frustration and the adrenaline of the war. Their relationship had strained over five years and although everyone expected a happy ending, she'd realized that he was only holding her down. They were still friends, at least in her eyes, but after two years he still he turned every one of their interactions into an awkward heap of, well, awkward.

She felt bad, especially for Harry, caught in another tiff between his two best friends. He was happy though, and as Hermione entered the door, she saw him and Ginny sitting next to each other at the long dinner table. Harry was holding her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, running his thumb over the engagement ring on her finger. They looked and waved at her, gesturing to the seat to Ginny's left.

"Hey Hermione, how was work?" Harry asked. He himself looked haggard. Working as an Auror was not only dangerous, but severely taxing. He was often out of town for weeks at a time without notice. Ginny generally tried not to worry but her light frown lines on her freckled face proved otherwise.

"Great, the usual, what's the agenda for today?" Hermione asked the two of them.

"I hear that there's some new information about Umbridge, something big," Harry frowned and absentmindedly rubbed his scar and Ginny rubbed his back softly.

A few years after the death of Voldemort, the Ministry was back in shape, supporting Wizard-Muggle marriages, training for parents of Muggleborn wizards, and integration of Squibs into the magical world. Obviously, not everyone was happy with the new reform. Many old wizarding families still advocated for pureblood aristocracy. There was a new extremist group though that has caused a little anxiety amongst the Order. Reports of dark magic and attacks on half-blood families were becoming increasingly common, and according to their sources it was fronted by none other than the bane of her fifth year, Dolores Umbridge.

Hermione always found it hard to imagine her temporary headmistress heading a massive anti-Ministry operation. Of course, the woman was cruel and unforgiving; but consorting with dark wizards in her pink suits and squealing voice? A little strange.

She had funded pro pureblood advertising, staged protests against the Ministry, and had gained many followers in doing so. Still, her efforts had been discounted by officials at just a nuisance. Recently, her group had vanished underground, resorting to more violent ways of protesting: murders, kidnappings, blackmail of Ministry officials.

With the strong influence of high class families like the Carrows and Lestranges, the government was forced to turn a blind eye to these happenings, calling for the reunion of the Order of the Phoenix. Gathering information from their respective Ministry posts, the group was attempting to track down and stop Umbridge before things got severe.

Hermione watched the table slowly filled in. A graying Mr. and Mrs. Weasley engaged in cheery conversation with Bill and Fleur, trying to distract seven year old Victoire and Teddy into playing upstairs. Neville chatted with Charlie Weasley about the use of rare mountain herbs in promoting dragon health and George and his expecting wife Angelina sat next to Harry, talking about Krum's replacement on the Bulgarian Quidditch team.

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when Ron came back in with a scowl and sat in the chair furthest from her.

"He's been having trouble with his new girlfriend again," Ginny whispered out of the side of her mouth. "He says she's too clingy, too stubborn, and a right awful cook. I reckon he can't find anyone as good as you."

"It's been two years, Gin! How long does it take for a man to move on?" Hermione groaned, placing her head in her hands. All she wanted was for things to go back to normal.

"How long does it take for _you_ to move on? You haven't had a proper date in months!" Ginny prodded her and Hermione rolled her eyes in response.

"I've been busy, okay? I haven't had time for any of that!" she protested. Ginny gave an unsatisfied 'hmph' and shook her head.

Ron cleared his throat loudly and the room quieted. "Can we get started? I don't have time to wait for that foul git-"

"No worries, the foul git has arrived,"a drawling voice came from doorway. A smirking Draco Malfoy walked in, shrugging his coat off his tall, lean, frame and placing it on the stand. His once slicked blond hair was shorter and tousled, framing cool grey eyes. "Apologies to everyone, getting out of the house was a little hard tonight," he flashed a charming smile to the table and made a move to sit down.

"Too much of a mama's boy to get your own place, Malfoy?" Ron sniped. Draco halted, his expression stony.

"If I were a 'mama's boy,' I wouldn't be here betraying my own parents would I?" He asked evenly. Ron dropped his gaze to the floor, embarrassed. He muttered a 'sorry' and the shut his mouth. Malfoy gave Hermione a small wink across the table and she smiled. Ginny, noticing, gave her suggesting elbow nudge. Hermione kicked her in the shin and she winced.

The first few years after Hogwarts, Harry and Draco were often forced to work together, and although they were never good friends, they were on good terms. After the pro-muggle Ministry reform, the Malfoys became reclusive, forcing Draco to resign from his position. He hated it, resented his family for it. For the first time in years he had been accepted in society. He had a great job, his own house, new friends, and then he was forced to give it all up.

Harry had invited Draco to join the Order, and although Hermione eventually warmed up to him, Ron still held a deep grudge against his childhood enemy. His parents were contributors to Umbridge's schemes and despite his disapproval, Draco was once again wrangled into the group. He now provided valuable information to the Order. It was hard however, having to sneak out of the house for meetings, having to ignore other members in public, watching his public reputation be slaughtered by the media.

"They're targeting Kingsley." Malfoy stated, his face serious. Everyone froze for a moment.

"The Minister of Magic?" Mr. Weasley looked confused. "The security around him has already been increased tenfold. There's no way they can get to him."

"Well, not him directly. His daughter. There's a plan in motion to kidnap Angela and use her as ransom." Draco explained, worriedly. "I overheard the Lestrange brothers at Malfoy Manor. She's a second year Ravenclaw at Hogwarts-"

"Hogwarts is the safest place she could be," Harry interjected. "We've made sure the school is impenetrable." One of the first tasks Harry ensured the Aurors completed was the security of the famed wizarding school. Far too many times had they encountered unwanted visitors in their days.

"They have people on the inside, Potter, teachers. They're too careful to mention names, but it's going to happen in Hogsmeade. They're hoping that with the girl, they'll have enough leverage to manipulate the Ministry." Draco frowned, rubbing his jaw.

"I could look into getting her a guard at the school," Ron spoke up, but Hermione shook her head.

"They can't suspect that we know, it could put Draco in danger," she said practically. Draco offered her a tight smile.

"Oh wouldn't want poor Draco in danger would we?" Ron snarled, shaking his heading and leaning back in his chair.

Ignoring Ron's remark, she continued, "A few of us could just go in, like a usual Ministry visit, Harry could give a random inspiring speech, you know, the usual," Harry chuckled "and we could use it as an excuse to check the place out."

Neville piped up, "I don't mind doing a little surveillance in the teacher's lounge until then, see what I can find out"

"That would be great, Neville, thanks," Harry said warmly. "Unless something urgent shows up, meeting next week, same time, same place?" Everyone gave nods of assent.

And so it was settled. Mrs. Weasley waved her wand, setting the table for dinner. The group ate, discussing various plans to deal with the possible threat, cracking jokes, generally having fun. Around 8:30 pm the place began clearing out, and Hermione helped Mrs. Weasley tidy the place up, watching Draco and Harry still at the table still talking, now seriously. Giving Ginny a hug, she grabbed her handbag and made for the door. As she fumbled for the doorknob, someone walked up behind her, reaching well over her head to grab a long coat.

Hermione turned around and found herself looking up at Draco. She smiled politely and opened the door, preparing to Apparate.

"That was a brilliant idea, Hermione," he said. Hermione turned around, a little taken aback.

"Er, thanks, it was you, really. It must be hard to be living like that." He shrugged lightly.

"These meetings are my only free nights. I tell my parents that I'm meeting up with Pansy, and she always covers for me," he sighed. "She's a bitch sometimes, but she's a true friend."

"Speaking of friends, I'm really sorry about Ron. He's dealing with a lot right now, and you know him, he's always had a short temper. He doesn't mean what he says, he'll warm up to you eventually." Hermione apologized.

"After losing a girl like you, it's no surprise he's crabby, don't worry about it," He smiled and Hermione turned a light pink. He sighed,

"And now, I return to my prison, good night milady" He chuckled with a mocking bow, "Until next week." He turned on the spot, Apparating back to Malfoy Manor, leaving a rather confused Hermione Granger in his wake.

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	2. Chapter 2

** Silver Flames**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, of course.**

**Enjoy!**

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The following week was ridiculously boring, and Draco, as usual found himself looking towards his Friday night of freedom. He had busied himself drawing out plans for their trip to Hogwarts. By the time Friday rolled around, he couldn't wait to show them to Hermione. Scratch that. Everyone, he couldn't wait to show them to everyone.

Draco was in the library, meandering through the massive collection at Malfoy Manor, she'd love this, when he heard someone enter, accompanied by the light tapping of a cane.

"Yes, father?" He called, even before Lucius approached him. The elder Malfoy's face looked much older than his years, a result of his few years in Azkaban.

"We have visitors, Draco. Someone I think you'd very much like to see." The smirk that often played on Draco's lips were a friendly reflection of the cold one that one that was now on his father's face. Curiosity peaked, he placed his books on the nearest shelf and followed his father into the sitting room.

It was indeed a pleasant surprise to see Pansy Parkinson with her family and his mother talking together. As he entered, his old friend stood, a terse smile on her face. He pulled her into a warm hug, but she was stiff, almost scared. She flashed him a warning glance.

"Is something wrong, Pan?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite, dear!" Chimed his mother. "Soon you won't have to go off every weekend to visit your Pansy."

"Is she moving into the old Greengrass mansion nearby?" Asked Draco, puzzled. His mother laughed and nudged the girl next to her.

"Why don't you tell him, dear," Pansy looked stricken.

"Draco, we're getting married," she whispered helplessly. Mrs. Parkinson giggled and gushed about her plans for the flavor of the wedding cake, and pulled her draft of the guest list. Draco was speechless, looking at Pansy, barely breathing.

It wasn't their fault, his parents thought he legitimately liked her, that this would make him happy. He knew that nothing he could say would change his father's mind, but Draco tried anyway,

"Father, don't you think this is a little early? I don't have a job, I can't support a family! Besides, I'm only twenty-four!" He urged.

"Don't be absurd Draco, I was nineteen when I married your mother, and look how happy we are," he smiled grotesquely and Narcissa flinched. He continued, "Besides, once the Ministry finally decided to see our way, you can have everything you want. I know how much you love Pansy."

Draco gritted his teeth and smiled. There was a way out of this, but more protest would only draw suspicion. He gave Pansy's hand a squeeze of comfort.

The next few hours were a blur. After tea, Pansy's family left, promising more wedding planning meeetups in the future. Before he knew it, it was time for Draco to leave to the Burrow.

He approached his mother, as she oversaw the house elves tidy up.

"Mother, Friday nights are generally when I go to visit Pansy...May I-" he started.

Narcissa laughed, "Oh Draco don't think I don't understand the callings of young love. You'll have app the privacy you could want soon," she interrupted, payirng his arm. Draco nearly gagged. "Tonight however, your father requires you at the meeting downstairs, and if I'm not mistaken, he has a job for you."

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He couldn't send an owl to the Order; his father checked all the post, and nor could he send a Patronus. The magic guarding this house was too strong. Hoping they'd understand, Draco changed into formal grey robes, and nervously headed to the meeting room downstairs. He shuddered to think of the last time he had been given a job in this house.

He would've gone to Azkaban for the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, had it not been for Harry Potter. His once arch enemy has testified for Draco and his mother, citing the rare times they had helped him. Draco held so much gratitude but his pride prevented him from showing it fully.

Draco still held the guilt of his teenage years. No amount of Concealment spells could hide the Dark Mark on his forearm. No amount of regret could bring back the dead. It was no wonder Ron still hated him when Draco still hated himself.

The people sitting around the dark wooden table looked up at him when he walked in. Draco sat to his father's left, straight backed and unsmiling. Lucius began speaking, gesturing to each person around the table to speak. Amycus Carrow started speaking about his sister, who had been captured after the war and was still in Azkaban. Draco began to tune out the droning voices, but he couldn't fight the memories.

The high, cold, voice of Lord Voldemort was never what scared Draco. It was the fact that it was devoid of every emotion, save anger. He knew what he was doing was wrong, and yet he reveled in it. There was not an ounce of remorse, not a single moment that he doubted his actions. Voldemort had lost his humanity, and Draco had watched his family fall down that same path. Even now, as he watched, former death eaters confessed their killings in tired, almost bored fashion, as if the lives were no more than those of flies. The sad part was that to these people, the lives of Muggles were indeed that insignificant.

"Draco!" His father said sternly, rapping him smartly on the knuckles with his cane. "Pay attention!" he hissed. Draco flinched, not moving his hand. Showing pain in front of guests would only result in further punishment.

"The Minister's daughter is well protected inside Hogwarts. Our contact in the school will not have the chance to act as planned without getting found out. We need to send someone in to Hogsmeade under the pretense of conducting business. From there, the contact-" Rodolpho Lestrange began explaining.

"I volunteer Draco." Lucius interrupted. Draco tried not to show the surprise on his face. "His years at the Ministry have given him a good name now. He's young, he's bright, he'd be well liked amongst students if need be." The cloaked people were silent, staring at him with the same scrutiny that one gives a horse before buying it.

Draco kept his gaze forward and steady but inside his world started spinning. It seemed all too much like his last task. He was trapped. They'd be watching his every move. He'd be forced to kidnap the girl, forced to betray his new friends, and if he were caught, Azkaban would be his better option over his father's wrath. There was no way out. There was light murmuring over the table that brought his attention back to meeting and slowly they began to nod.

"It's settled then. We shall have him in place in a week's time. Further instruction will be solicited in near future," Lucius waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, and the visitors disappeared in clouds of black smoke. It was just Draco and his father sitting at the table.

"Father, I-I'd like to..." he began.

"Don't stutter Draco, it's a revolting habit." his father growled, standing up to leave.

"I need to visit the Leaky Cauldron tonight," Draco said, running a hand through his hair. Lucius turned around, frowning. "I just need a strong drink."

His father laughed mirthlessly. "I would ask you to stay here, the liquor is ten times as fine, but I understand. Go, enjoy your last night as a child. Prepare for the task ahead." He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "After this, you either succeed...or you die. You know this as well as I." With a last, puzzling look, Lucius, leaning more on his cane than he used to, disappeared into the halls of Malfoy Manor.

Grabbing his coat, Draco walked out of the house into the frigid February air. He hurried down the cobblestone path that led to the gates. He was plagued with worry, with anger, and with a surrounding sense of loneliness. As he passed through the gate, he could feel the weight of the Magic Tracing spells in the house leave his shoulders. He thought of a place, one he had seen only very briefly a few years ago. Just a glance as he was walking by. He thought, and he turned on the spot.

With a deep breath, he knocked on the door, now every cell in him hoping that it was the wrong house, that he'd have to turn back. He was not that lucky. The door to the small apartment in Muggle London opened, and Draco found himself looking at the sleepy, bushy haired face of Hermione Jean Granger.

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**Hope you liked it, more intense drama soon! **

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	3. Chapter 3

**Silver Flames**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, of course.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

* * *

Hermione had been dozing in front of her Muggle telly, watching the Sound of Music, her favorite movie, for the fiftieth time. When she was young, she'd watch it with her parents all the time, singing along to every song, and finishing Julie Andrews' sentences. Her unfinished bowl of chocolate ice cream sat on the table in front of her, melting into a puddle, next to a half full glass of red wine.

The Order's meeting today had been interesting. The plan was that Hermione would visit Hogwarts this weekend under the cover of an inspection. She'd look into the teachers, check the wards, and do a quick sweep of Hogsmeade. With luck, everything would be fine and the girl would be okay. If anything looked fishy, Harry would join her later. Ron hadn't even offered to help.

She sighed. Ron. How a single person could be so infuriating she couldn't understand. In the span of a week, he'd broken up with the latest in a string of girlfriends, and as a result was in a crabbier mood than usual. Mrs. Weasley was beside herself, afraid that he'd turn back to alcohol like he did after they broke up. Surprisingly, she had been on Hermione's side from the beginning. Ron's temper and possessiveness were hurting himself as well. They were best friends throughout their childhood, it hurt Hermione to see him crash and burn.

Someone knocked on the door, and she jerked awake. The clock above her tv showed just past ten o'clock, a little late for visitors. She stood, stretching and walked to the door with one hand wrapped around the wand in the pocket of her bathrobe. She looked through the peephole and saw a ruffled head of silvery blond hair illuminated by the street light next to her mailbox. She opened the door to see an embarrassed looking Draco Malfoy.

She whipped her wand out of her pocket out of instinct, jabbing it under his throat. He stumbled backwards and a look of indignation crossed his face. He opened his mouth to say something but Hermione cut him off.

"Third year, I punched you on the face," she stated, poking his Adam's apple. He was utterly bewildered. "Why?" She demanded.

"Er...I was making fun of Hagrid. Hagrid and Buckbeak." Draco looked sheepish and Hermione instantly regretted her choice of question. When she was at school, she hated Malfoy. She loathed him. She wanted every little piece of him ripped apart and tossed into a well. He was horrible and rude and vile. Things had changed after the War. He had apologized, although reluctantly, but she could tell he held so much remorse. He blamed himself for a lot more than he was guilty of.

Hermione dropped her wand. "Oh good lord Draco, it's freezing, what the hell are you doing out here?" Before he could answer, she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him inside. "Excuse that," she apologized, referring to her attack, "I had to check, you know, with everything that's going on-" He let out a weak chuckle.

"Don't worry, most people wouldn't let me in even if they did know who I was. Especially if they knew." His face was grinning but he looked unnerved and paler than usual. Hermione frowned and led him to her living room, muting the telly. Draco's eyes widened when he saw her tv set. It was funny to see the pureblood enthralled by the wonders of Muggle technology. He picked up the remote, fiddling with the buttons, accidentally rewinding the tape.

"Hello? Earth to Draco?" she called, waving her hand in front of his face. He jumped and she laughed, walking into her tiny kitchen. "Never watched a film before?" she asked, pouring him a glass of wine. He shook his head. She handed him the glass and gestured for him to sit in the armchair. He picked a stack of books off the seat and put them on the coffee table. "Excuse the mess too, I wasn't exactly expecting visitors." She said, her ears turning pink as his eyes wandered over the candy wrappers stuffed between couch cushions.

"No, I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be here at all. It's just that...things happened today. And I needed someone to talk to..." he seemed a little flustered, "About the meeting, of course! The meeting with the Order" he added quickly. Draco looked visibly upset, but Hermione knew better than to ask. She indulged his request and briefed him about the developments in their plan. He frowned when she told him about going into to Hogwarts and nearly said something, but then closed his mouth again. She finished speaking, and he just sat there, deep in thought.

"They've asked me to go in too. Not the Order," he said, noting her pleased expression "my father." Her smile fell. "They want me involved in the kidnapping." Hermione put her glass down.

Her mind flashed back to Dumbledore's dead body at the base of the Astronomy Tower. She knew it hadn't been Draco who'd killed him, but the toll the task took on the seventeen year old had been grotesque. Draco, although she'd rarely admitted it, used to be her academic competition in school. Through seventh year, he'd dropped out of everything, skipping class, failing assignments, and based on his gaunt form, losing sleep as well.

"We can help. The Order can get you out of this," she promised.

"And then what? Spend the rest of my life hiding from my own father?" Draco's voice rose dangerously. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's useless. I just thought I'd let you know before I fail and they kill me," he laughed, getting up to leave. "Thanks for listening," he said putting his glass on the kitchen counter.

Hermione grabbed him by the arm, "Just shut up. We can help you. We can visit Harry tomorrow morning." Draco tried to pull his arm away, shaking his head, but she held on.

"If I'm not back at the Manor by tomorrow morning, they'll come looking for me. I don't want to put anyone in danger." Hermione rolled her eyes, Draco was sounding like a young and foolhardy Harry Potter, although she wouldn't tell him that. Her drowsiness had faded completely, and her mind was racing with ways to fix the problem.

"Well you have until the morning, so don't go back to that hellhole so quickly. I can show you the magic in Muggle telly if you'd like," she said cheerfully. Draco's face visibly relaxed.

"I wouldn't mind...unless I'm being a bother." She forced him to sit back down, this time on the couch right in front of the tv. Taking the remote, she rewinded all the way back to the beginning, where a cheery nun, Maria, was dancing and singing amongst the hills, and then sat next to him.

"Do Muggles actually do this?" Draco asked, puzzled. Laughing, Hermione explained the concept of a musical and then eventually, how television actually worked. To her surprise, he actually seemed impressed. Although they were sitting nearly a foot apart, Hermione heard his stomach grumble loudly.

"I'll take it you haven't had the chance to eat dinner yet?" she asked. He shook his head, distracted by the movie. She went to the refrigerator to pull out leftovers Mrs. Weasley had given her and popped them in the microwave. Hearing the hum, he paused the movie, got up and walked into the kitchen. "It's a muggle device for heating food. It's called a microwave."

He wasn't all that impressed this time, not when spells could easily accomplish the task. However, it did spark a discussion about Hermione's unorthodox lifestyle.

"You're a witch, and a damn good one at that," he said, between mouthfuls of Mrs. Weasley's pot roast. "Why do you rely on Muggle ways of doing things?" Living a privileged life with plenty of house elves, Draco had probably never even made his own tea before. Hermione began talking about her childhood; being raised by two Muggle dentists, going to primary school where kids play football not Quidditch, doing chores with her own two hands. It made her feel good to do things the long way, the Muggle way. She didn't expect Draco to understand.

He told her about his life at home, how much pressure he had to be the best. He left out the parts with Voldemort and she didn't blame him, those memories were too painful. He had been flying since he learned to walk, and he even told Hermione how jealous he was of Harry's natural talent. His father hadn't been too happy when he'd lost the Quidditch Cup, and it was even worse when a "Mud-blood" beat him in academics. He was a failure in his father's eyes and he bore the scars to prove it. Hermione found herself forgiving the man for everything he'd ever done to her; all the taunting and name calling from their childhood.

They talked for much longer than Hermione had expected and she found herself telling him so much about herself. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed having someone around. Although Ron never listened, he was there to talk _at,_ if not to. Now he was gone, Harry was far too busy, and talking with Ginny was just different. It was strange, a boy she once hated, now a friend? Before long, it was nearing 2am, and Hermione stretched, yawning.

Taking this as his cue, Draco stood, saying,"It's late, I should go. I probably won't get another night like this, but thank you, it was-" Hermione had an idea.

"Wait! Wait, right here, I have something!" She interrupted. Leaving a confused Draco in the living room, she ran to her little bedroom and threw open her dresser drawer, rummaging amongst various articles of clothing. Her hand felt the cold metal she was searching for. She grabbed it and ran back to the room.

"Look, I know you don't want me to help you, but at least take this," she said, pressing a dusty old Galleon into his palm. "It's what we used to communicate in Dumbledore's Army, but it's bewitched two-way this time. If you need to talk, you can message me." He started to refuse it, but she closed his fingers around the coin. "It's undetectable by any tracing spells. It's safe."

Draco looked at her strangely, "Thank you." he said. "Thank you for tonight, for this," he flipped the coin around in his hand, "and thank you for understanding. I know I don't deserve this kindness." Hermione admonished him and walked him to the door.

"I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts then?" she asked him. His face looked weary, and his silvery eyes were stone grey. Everything about him looked tense with anticipation. He didn't respond to her question.

"Good night, Hermione" he said, and leaned down over her petite frame and kissed her on the cheek. With a tired smile, he walked out her door and Apparated with a whoosh.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Silver Flames**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, of course.**

**Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

* * *

Saturday, around six o'clock in the evening, Draco was in his bedroom packing his things into a rucksack. He tossed a few sets of robes onto his green silk sheets, the whole house silent.

He had spent hours taking to her, spilling out his life story. After that night, Draco found himself thinking about her. There was a small bit of him that had wondered "what if?" But he squashed that immediately, chalking it up to his anxiety.

Draco was disgusted with himself, it went against everything he'd learned. Regardless of his disagreement with his family's values, he was a Malfoy. He was the heir to one of the largest fortunes in the wizarding world, heir to a name centuries old and well respected. He couldn't squander that on a middle class Muggleborn witch. He shuddered to think of what the newspapers would make of it. He would be a laughing stock.

She was pretty enough, worth a flirt at the least. In school, there hadn't been a girl in Slytherin that wouldn't have killed for a night with him. Ever since he'd been forced back home, all of that had disappeared. Hermione had been the first girl to show even the mildest interest in him in the past months, couldn't blame a guy for trying. He had been distracted and stressed beyond belief at the time. She was just a face to talk to. He'd hated her during school, and although they were cordial now, he had to keep things professional.

He focused himself out the task at hand. He would be in Hogsmeade by Sunday, a week before the scheduled student visit. The contact in the school would meet him that day to pass on instructions. Once the coast was clear, he'd message Hermione, who'd meet him for a mutual debriefing.

There was a soft knock at the door, but before he could answer, his mother entered the room looking highly preoccupied.

"Draco! It's past six! Why aren't you ready?" she snipped, trying to comb his hair with her fingers. He pushed her hand away, asking with a sigh,

"Ready for what?"His mother was fussing around his room, trying to arrange things into a someone neat fashion.

"Your engagement party of course!" Narcissa scoffed impatiently, "Guests will start arriving in half an hour. Your dress robes are in the cupboard, hurry now!" Draco ushered his mother out of the room, locking the door behind her.

The surprise betrothal had taken a backseat in Draco's mind, but for some reason, he wasn't perturbed. A part of him had known this would happen. His wedding was a political event, set to keep the Malfoy fortune close.. It had to be that way. Of course, he didn't _want_ to get married, but rather Pansy than someone like Millicent Bulstrode. He pulled out the greenish black robes from his armoire.

Chances are, there would be no wedding at all. Getting caught helping the Order? He'd be lucky if he was killed. And even if they did succeed in saving the girl, what then? He'd go back to living in his parent's house, taking part in petty schemes to overthrow the government, marry Pansy, and live rich and happy for the rest of his life. Wait, rich? Yes, but happy? No. He could find a way out of the engagement _after_ the assignment.

The light murmur of guests entering the ballroom filtered upstairs and Draco pushed away his self-pity, pulling on his robes. The high, stiff, collar was suffocating, and he forced himself to stop tugging at it as he put on his charming plaster smile and walked down stairs.

Pansy's attempt to mask her unhappiness was nowhere as convincing as his. She was in figure hugging green sequin dress with black panels down the sides and would have looked gorgeous if not for the obvious cloud of dismay hanging over her head. Her eyes were dark and glaring and she wore a furious expression, interrupted with a periodic smile to some relative or the other. She ignored his greeting with a cold stare.

House elves meandered through the growing crowd with platters of hors d'oeuvres and Draco couldn't help but think about Hermione's outrage at the "slavery". She didn't understand. Chiding himself, he forced Hermione from his thoughts, engaging in conversation with the people around him.

After nearly an hour of graciously accepting congratulatory remarks that he did not want, Draco was interrupted by a repetitive tinkling noise. Pansy's father, a short and portly man, stood in the center of the room, tapping his fork furiously on a glass of champagne. His over enthusiastic wife lay draped on his arm. The room slowly quieted and he cleared his throat pretentiously. Draco _feel_ his father rolling his eyes.

"Before dinner is served, our families would like commemorate this event with a little ceremony, a traditional binding engagement," he began. The room broke into whispers and Draco felt his stomach drop and he could hear Pansy let out a whimper from behind him.

"Draco, Pansy dear, join me, Lucius, Narcissa, you too," he called. The familes gathered in the center of the ballroom, guests watching with wide eyes. He gestured for the betrothed to hold hands, and they did. Pansy flashed a pleading look to her mother, but it was ignored.

Lucius drew his wand and cast a charm over their interlocked hands. Her father began some drawn out speech about the meaning of love, and Draco and Pansy locked eyes. Wizarding Engagements were unheard of in this age. Much like an Unbreakable Vow, the betrothed faced death if they were disloyal during the engagement period. They could only be broken by those who performed the spell and his father would never break the bond. There was no way out.

His mother, slipped the old engagement ring off her finger and handed it to him. It was an antique Malfoy heirloom, a slim silver band with fragments of emerald embedded in its circumference.

Draco slipped the ring onto Pansy's finger, feeling the tension in her trembling hand. The crowd gave a nervous round of applause and his mother gave him and approving smile. Lucius finished casting the spell and dropped his wand and Mr. Parkinson gave Draco a rough pat on the back, smiling. The guests turned away from the uncomfortable scene and back to their mingling. He met Pansy's angry eyes and she glared.

"Would you please excuse us a moment?" Draco smiled charmingly at Pansy's parents as he slid his hand into hers, pulling her towards the balcony. Her mother giggled and let them pass. As soon as they were out of their parents' line of sight, Pansy snatched her hand out of his.

"Are you HAPPY about this?" She fumed, keeping her voice to a dangerous whisper. Her dark hair was coming loose, framing her scowling face. Draco shrugged, his mask dropping to reveal an almost bored expression.

"There's no way out of this, Pan, just accept it. I've got bigger problems," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, _Malfoy," _she snapped, "I've got other people in my life, and we both know you do too." Draco raised his eyebrows. "I'm finding a way out of this. I have to," she cut off his unspoken words and stalked away.

Luckily for Draco, the rest of the night passed quickly. His engagement was the least of his worries and by the time Malfoy Manor emptied of guests, he had a pounding headache. He went back upstairs, pulling his robes up over his head and fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

The next afternoon, Draco was in Hogsmeade chatting innocently with an aging Madame Rosmerta. She was still the same saucy woman with a fiery temper, but business had slowed down tremendously since his days. The town was sleepy during school hours, with neither students nor teachers to come in. On top of that, a new place had opened up down the street with live music and everything, cutting her customer base in half. Rosemerta was even thinking about closing down.

The little bell at the top of the front door dinged, interrupting their conversation and a cloaked figure of a man slipped inside. He took the stool next to Draco, pointing a dismissive finger to the Firewhisky on the back counter. Rosemerta huffed, offended, but went to pour his drink. As soon as she turned her back, the man stood, pulled out a little piece of parchment from his pocket, and placed it on his stool. By the time she turned around with a short glass of the amber liquid, he had left, the door swinging behind him.

"Oi!" she yelled after him, but he had already gone. "Arsehole," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Draco took the glass from her and downed the stiff liquid quickly. He placed a few silver sickles on the bar, more than twice than the drink was worth. Before the bartender could thank him, he slipped the parchment into his pocket and disappeared to the shabby room he'd rented upstairs.

Draco unfolded the the yellowing paper and read it, his jaw dropping further with each sentence. He reached into his backpack frantically and pulled out the Galleon. The coin glowed as he sent an urgent message to Hermione. There was no immediate reply, and Draco lay back in the bed, anxious, reminding himself why he needed to hate her.

* * *

**Sorry about the delay, ****next chapter up soon!**

**~thefandomunicorn**


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